


Oasis Drabbles & Ficlets

by saturnina



Category: Music RPF, Oasis (Band)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Band Fic, Brother Feels, Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Community: madferourkid, Drabble Collection, Drinking, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Introspection, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Pining, Sibling Incest, Slice of Life, Some OOC-ness, Underage Liam (no sex though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnina/pseuds/saturnina
Summary: This is a collection of Oasis-related drabbles & ficlets I wrote on LJ years ago. There is nothing too explicit or kinky here, although there is one R-rated story (hence the rating). Most of it is Noel/Liam, but not all.





	1. Every night, this madness [Noel/Liam, PG]

**Author's Note:**

> I have collected here (almost) all the drabbles and ficlets I wrote for the madferourkid challenges on LJ, back in 2013-2014. I quite like these stories, short and sweet as they are, so I decided to share them again.
> 
> There is nothing too explicit or kinky here, although there is one R-rated story. Most are just slash-flavoured slice of life scenes or introspective prose. Also, most of it is Noel/Liam, but not all. 
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated! I hope you enjoy~

_2013_

5:42 AM. Noel watched the numbers dance before his tired eyes, as his mobile phone vibrated in his hand. He answered it and his voice echoed in the safe hollow of the corridor.

"H'llo?"

"So. D'you listen to it?"

Noel's head fell back and hit the wall with a quiet thud. 

"No."

"Well ya should. Ev'ryone says 'ts much better than yer stuff."

"Good for you, Liam," he sighed, ready to end the call when Liam's voice got his attention again. 

"Yea, good fer me. At least this Gallagher's still rockin'. Thought yer genius but yer jus' a sad old cunt, aren't ya? You even play old, yer songs are like elevator music for a geriatric hospital—"

Ever since _BE_ was released, Liam would call him in the middle of the night to ask him if he had listened to it. 

"What do you want, Liam?"

Every bloody night. This madness.

"If yer think I'm calling to apolog—"

"I don't. I'm asking a question."

Silence. Liam's nervous breathing, and then the liquid sound of him quaffing a drink straight from the bottle. 

"You."

Liam's voice was thick with something that always gripped Noel's heart. Vulnerability. It reminded him of their childhood, and his arms and chest tingled with the absence of his little brother between them.

"You had me for forty years—"

"Forty, eh? That was longer than I thought."

"—and you did your best to push me away. It worked."

"Well I ain't fuckin' sorry!"

"Didn't think you'd be."

Liam's anger was an obvious charade, and Noel could hear him sniff softly until the sounds were cut by a sudden emptiness. Liam hung up, but Noel kept the phone against his ear, as if trying to capture the phantom echoes of his pain.

Liam would call again tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. Liam would call him for another 40 years if necessary, to get what he wanted. And Noel could not pick the lesser evil: the madness of being Liam's again, or the madness of rejecting him night after night, at the expense of his own soul.

~the end~


	2. A feast for two [Noel/Liam, R]

_Early 2000s_

Nobody questioned them when they took the first train back to London leaving their band mates back at Wheeler End. Just one night.

Liam had promised him a feast.

Noel was hungry, and this was no metaphor. His stomach growled as he absentmindedly followed his brother from Marylebone to wherever Liam was going to take him for dinner.

He should have known better. Really. But denial had been his prerogative until he sat on that anonymous old mattress, with a lapful of Liam determined to make him reconsider the source of his hunger.

"Thought we're gonna 'ave dinner first."

"I'll eat ya alright."

Liam gave him a toothsome smile that magically turned his blood to fire and made his groin tighten.

"So you dragged me all the way from Bucks jus' to gimme some lapdance, eh?"

Noel had to cavil. Of course.

"Yea, I'll show ya lapdance, cunt."

Noel wanted to grin by his jaw fell ajar as Liam slid to the floor, undoing his trousers while keeping his eyes locked on Noel's. _Ah, so this is how it looks like—_ as Liam held his cock in a tight grip, breathed upon the wet tip and then took him in his mouth as if he was the most succulent of all fruits.

"I'll tell ya Noel," Liam commented, amidst licks and kisses, "this gonna be a helluva feast!"

Noel believed him. So he lay back on the table, ready to feed the devil like the good sacrificial lamb he was.

~ the end ~


	3. The nightly moth [Noel/Liam, PG-13]

Here comes the nightly  
moth, to his nightly  
Death, at my lamp.  
~ Jack Kerouac

_Late 1980s_

Noel didn't even ask Liam what he wanted anymore.

He merely stepped aside and let him in, glad he didn't have a girlfriend there for the time being. And the script was always the same. Liam would come in smelling like alcohol and go straight to the shared bathroom. Noel would leave a duvet, a pillow and a worn shirt on the sofa, and quietly smoke a fag on the window. He wouldn't look at his brother. He would listen to Liam's wet footsteps on the corridor floor and then the creaking sound of the old cushions as Liam tried to make himself comfortable. And silence. 

But Noel felt it in the air. Whenever Liam visited him, he was sure he had unleashed a hungry tiger in his bedsit, one that was only waiting for him to relax before ambushing him.

Noel snubbed his fag out on the window sill and went back to his bed in the corner. He counted the minutes instead of sheep, and just as sleep began to weave its magic around him, he felt the mattress dip and another body settle beside him. Soft fingertips touched his back, and this was no tiger, it was a moth, caressing him with its wings.

"So fuckin' warm..." Liam murmured, snuggling closer.

He did not understand why Liam continued to do this, this senseless ritual. Why he allowed this fire to grow between them. He didn't move, not even after Liam wrapped his arms around him. He just waited patiently for the sun to exorcise this demon in the morning, knowing better than to allow the fire to spread, even though he knew Liam longed to be consumed.

~the end~


	4. Looking right through [one-sided Andy/Liam, PG]

_2004-2005_

"Jus' fucking _do it_!"

"No."

Andy didn't know why they all had to be summoned to watch yet another scuffle between the two brothers. Liam was sprawled on an easychair while Noel paced the room like a caged animal, barking at Liam about his lack of commitment and calling him every name under the sun.

The sun. It had been an impossibly hot September.  
Liam quaffed his lager and answered with half-grumbled monosyllables.

"Why can't you just fuckin' oblige me for once?"

"Can't fuckin' _wot_!?"

"Fuckin' do me a favour and _sing_!"

"I'll fuckin' sing, man," Liam mumbled, tossing his empty bottle in a corner, "'just not now."

"Then when?"

"When I fuckin' please, cunt."

The bassist looked around. Gem had his eyes closed and was obviously trying to meditate his way out of hell. Alan hadn't even bothered to show up. He felt like the only witness to a psychological wrestling match; one that, if truth be told, he was glad hadn't turned into a physical one—yet.

And the heat. The air-conditioning groaned and creaked as it fought a lost battle against the summer. Andy felt his eyes lose their focus, as he watched Liam open another bottle and bring it to his lips. Nice lips on him. _What a bizarre thought_ , he told himself, but his eyes were already following the lazy path of a sweat drop as it ran down Liam's forehead and cheek, down further down until it slipped underneath the collar of his shirt and disappeared.

Liam was glowing—his skin irradiated warmth and his movements were languorous as if in the after bliss. His eyes were lost as Noel demanded more and more, and Andy could see that the more Noel asked, the less Liam felt like giving. And he did not simply drank from that bottle, no, he played with it like a lazy feline, rubbing its neck against his wet lips and swirling his tongue out to collect cool droplets, and why was he so fucking mesmerised by Liam's mouth, it must be the heat, yes—

"Andy!?"

Noel's voice was like a huge fly swatter squashing his reverie. When his eyes focused again, he noticed Noel standing right in front of him, saying words he didn't care to understand. No, Andy couldn't help it but look right through him, right into the eyes of that other man, who gave him the dirtiest knowing grin ever before swigging out the bottle with an ardour that made the summer heat pale in comparison.

~the end~


	5. I stand alone, nobody knows... [one-sided Noel/Liam, PG]

_21 September 2014_

"Nah, everything's good... no, I haven't seen the kids yet but I think they gonna spend the weekend with me. Yep."

Liam rummaged through the cupboards of the kitchen, trying to find the kettle. It was past 7 in the morning. Usually, he would not be awake at this time, but the telephone had startled him out of bed.

"Yeah, thanks mam."

He didn't know why the hell his mother had decided to call him so fucking early, but he supposed she wanted to be the first one to congratulate him for his birthday. Where was the fucking kettle?

Liam answered to most of his mam's rambling with some random _yeah_ and _oh really!?_ , paying little attention to her as she chinwagged away about whosits and whatsits. He rubbed his eyes trying to concatenate his answers while his brain struggled to remember what the kettle looked like in the first place. Did he even own one?

Then Peggy began to admonish him for not trying harder to make amends with Nicole before throwing in the towel, and Liam kind-of-but-not-really tried to explain it was none of her fucking business, when in a flash of insight he remembered that he had left the kettle under a leak in the living room during the last rainy night, because he had been too lazy to find a proper pot (he still had to call the men to fix it).

With a sigh he dragged himself to the other room, cradling the mobile phone between his head and shoulder, while his mother blabbered on. He collected the half-filled kettle from the floor and walked back to the kitchen.

_...and did Noel call you, love?_

The kettle made a horrible noise as it bounced twice on the tiled floor before rolling underneath the table. Now there was water everywhere, and suddenly Liam didn't feel like drinking tea anymore. He didn't feel like being awake.

"No he, erm, he sent me a message instead... Nothing mam, I jus' dropped me fucking kettle—Look, can I call you later? I have to clean this... Sure, but only after midday, ok? Alright then... Love you too. Bye."

He didn't feel like being alive.

Liam crouched and stared at the mess on the floor. It was barely three ounces of water, but it felt like an ocean to him, like it would take a gargantuan effort to dry it. Liam wanted to cry. His foggy mind could not handle the idea of looking for a mop, so he shuffled dejectedly back to bed.

Noel had not sent him any message, not that day and not during the last 365 days. But he didn't have the heart to tell his mother that. He didn't want to remember that. He didn't want to confess that when the phone rang, he jumped out of bed because he had hoped he would finally hear Noel's voice, giving him the only present he needed that day.

~the end~


	6. We are dying birds [Noel/Liam, PG]

_We are dying birds_   
_we are sinking ships—_  
~ Charles Bukowski

_Late 1980s_

"Lemme help you, fer Chrissake!"

"No!"

It was a pitiful spectacle, really, watching Liam trying to wrap his own bloody and dirty right hand with his rather uncoordinated left hand. Drunk, stubborn, sitting on the closed toilet sit, hunching over his wounded hand as if to hide it from his brother's scrutiny.

He had been in a fight, obviously, but hadn't bothered to explain how he came so close to slicing his hand in the middle. All Noel knew is that he knocked on his door at 4 am looking like something the cat dragged in. A dying bird. Silently shuffling his feet because his wings were broken and he was unused to the weight of the earth.

"Liam—"

"No, I— Jus' leave, alright? M'kay. Sorry fer wakin' ya."

Noel huffed and turned around to go back to his room, leaving his stupid brother alone in that dingy shared bathroom. He considered locking his door so that Liam would have to either leave or risk sleeping in the corridor, just to be kicked out by one of the other tenants in the morning. 

He thought about all the ways he could pretend Liam was not his problem but then the sound of a hitched sob echoed, disturbing the still air of the night. Before Noel could think up some better excuses, his feet took him back to the bathroom and he knelt in front of Liam, in front of that pain that went much deeper than the cut.

His brother's eyes dissolved in tears that did not belong there.

"Let me help, Liam. Please."

Liam nodded quietly and handed him the small, battered first aid kit box. Noel proceeded to gently clean the cut and dress it, wishing he could go back in time, to heal the bigger wound that was behind all this mess.

~the end~


	7. The hourglass [Noel/Liam, PG-13]

His hands reached out before his eyes dared to open. It was hard to admit he was afraid—afraid of finding an empty spot beside him, although he somehow expected it. His heart stood still for a moment as his mind focused on the coolness of the sheets beneath his exploring hand, sliding further to his left, slowly. He lost a shred of hope each millisecond it took him to find what he was looking for.

And then he did. His blind fingers suddenly brushed against a singular warmth, a known softness of skin, the contours of bones underneath it moving with each expansion and contraction of the lungs.

Liam smiled, but did not open his eyes.

"Uhnnn... what?" a rough voice asked, "Liam?"

"You’re still here."

He still didn't open his eyes, afraid that it would all fade away if he did. Maybe his mind was conjuring Noel's voice from his memories, longing and desire making it so real he could feel it vibrate against his eyelids.

"'Course I'm still here. Told ya I'd stay till morning, didn't I?"

Warm breath caressed his face, all too real.

"You never keep yer fuckin' promises—"

"I always keep me fuckin' promises, kid."

"Liar."

He had promised Liam he would not leave. And yet, he had. So many times.  
He had promised he would not hide. And yet, he did. Whenever he could.

"Open your eyes."

Liam did, expecting the dream to vanish into thin air. But his brother was there, looking at him with that little grin he used when he thought Liam was being weird.

"There, you found me."

Desperation billowed in his chest and Liam grabbed Noel's face, kissing him eagerly, begging him not to leave again, not to lie again. Noel kissed back gently, caressing his brother's hair and neck. Though his touches were sweet, they were also cautious, refusing to make promises, to compromise.

"Don't wanna lose you again—"

"You won't."

 _Fuckin' liar_ , he wanted to spit. He just hugged his brother instead; Noel's wet skin felt slippery and elusive between his arms.

Liam knew he was losing him already.

~the end~


	8. My feet slip nearer [Andy/Liam, PG]

_I did not reach thee,_   
_But my feet slip nearer every day;_  
~ Emily Dickinson

 

_Was this sacrifice worth it?_

He wanted to say that he wished it hadn't happened. That in a perfect world Oasis would still be Oasis, not a memory that Liam secretly clung to, and that Noel seemed to treat with contempt. Each had his own way of dealing with what they all had lost.

But that was not Andy's perfect world. No, his perfect world was what he had now, the warm and pliant body that shifted quietly between his arms. The man that sighed and purred as he buried his nose in the crook of Andy's neck.

Liam had come to him looking for someone to talk to. Someone who would just listen and understand, without pretending to have all the answers. Andy offered him love disguised as silent comfort, and Liam took what he was given with visceral hunger.

There was a Noel-shaped hole in Liam's soul, he knew it. Andy did not expect to fill it completely, but he still had so much to give Liam. All he needed was time—

"Andy...?"

"Here."

Andy kissed his brow sweetly and Liam slipped back into unconsciousness. He stared blankly at the anonymous ceiling of their hotel room, remembering that it had taken Liam months to be able to relax in his arms like this.

All he needed was time. He hoped Noel would never come back.

_But was this sacrifice worth it?_

Yes. And Andy felt a bit guilty because, in his heart, it was no sacrifice at all.

~the end~


	9. Borrow your home [Noel/Liam, PG]

_August 1991_

Noel was not surprised. He was just glad Louise wasn't home that night. 

It was almost as if he had been expecting to find Liam on his bed. How he had got in their flat was a mystery, but Liam always found a way to do what he wanted. Noel sighed, rummaging around for clean pants. He found them underneath someone else's clothes—Liam's.

Liam. Liam. Liam. Couldn't get rid of the little cunt, could he? No. He was his kismet. His stone to roll uphill for the eternity.

He heard the mattress creak and looked up, straight into his brother's eyes. Liam didn't a say a word. He still had that wounded look he got right before Noel walked out The Boardwalk that night.

"Whatcha doin' h—?"

"D'you really think we're shite?"

Ah, so that was it. Yes, they were shite. Except for one song, the rest of their act was a public embarrassment, when it wasn't migraine-inducing. Noel inhaled, ready to spew the ugly truth, but his brother's expression, a mix of exhaustion and expectation, dampened Noel's cruelest intentions.

"Not... _entirely_."

"But you said—"

"I dunno kid. Maybe I was wrong, ok?"

These words had the expected effect. Liam visibly relaxed against the mattress, giving him a small smile. So small he'd have missed it, if he wasn't already sliding into bed by Liam's side, using his physical presence to comfort him, like he did when they were kids. It still worked, after all those years. Liam was fast asleep in his arms within minutes.

Now Noel just hoped Louise wouldn't be back too early next morning. Because she would be surprised. _Badly_ surprised.

~the end~


	10. Unfinished Business [Noel/Liam, PG-13]

_Early 2000s_

"Hmn... _yeah?_ "

"The TV ain't working."

Noel glanced up at the alarm clock on the bedside table, barely keeping his eyes open. 5:37 AM. Jesus. What was Liam doing up so late? He knew his brother had partied after their gig; he could almost smell the alcohol on the other end of the line. But usually around this time he was either unconscious due to drinking, or shagging a groupie. Not calling Noel.

"I called the reception," Liam explained, "they said one of the aerials got broken off due to the storm."

"What storm?"

"Ground control to major roofies? It's a fuckin' monsoon outside!"

Noel rolled his eyes so far into his back it was a surprise they didn't need to be surgically fixed. But now that he paid attention, he could hear the pitter-patter of the rain against the window. He groaned.

"Why's this even my problem? Go to sle—"

"I can't. 'M wide awake man. As if I'd snorted a ton of coke."

"Well have you?"

"...can I have some of your pills?"

Noel cradled the receiver between his shoulder and ear, trying to find a comfortable position on the excessively soft hotel bed.

"No Liam, you can't have my _prescribed_ meds. I need them during the tour."

"Buy more. 'Ts not like you're fuckin' skint."

"You know what Liam?" Noel cut him. "If you can't sleep then stick two fingers up your arse and fuck yourself till you're too tired to—“

"I was."

"Eh?"

"Then the TV went out halfway through the film."

"..."

"An' I couldn't finish—"

Noel hung up on Liam, cutting him off. He didn't want to know the rest. He lay on his bed, wide awake now. Only a lethal dose of Flunitrazepam would erase from Noel's mind the image of Liam watching porn and fingering himself.

 

Perhaps dying wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Nothing in this fanfic is true and I do not claim that the people mentioned in it are like this in real life. No disrespect is intended.


End file.
